


teenagers scare the living shit out of me

by headfirstforiero



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bullying, M/M, bob and ray r bullies (im sorry), im really sorry that the rest of the band are bullies i know theyre ok i just needed characters, mikey is a bully too :(, soccer player gerard, the ending is nice though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headfirstforiero/pseuds/headfirstforiero
Summary: i don't know how to summarise this so just read i guess :)) triggers in beginning notes !!
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Kudos: 10





	teenagers scare the living shit out of me

**Author's Note:**

> tw // homophobic slurs , insults, mention of self harm / suicide / suicidal thoughts, blood / gore (a little bit), mention of knives

I walk down the narrow hallways of the school, swarmed by people. Luckily I'm shorter, though, so I'm hoping that factor might keep me hidden today. Although, as long as they're here, it's just inevitable. 

I can't fight them or it gets worse. I should be used to this by now, but I'm not. Their words still hurt. And so does the beating. I don't even remember doing anything wrong. They must just see me as an easy target. I'm short and scrawny and I don't retaliate to their violence.

"Where do you think you're going, fag?" I hear from the other end of the hall, interrupting my thoughts. 

My heart is beating hard in my chest and I start to pick up my pace when I realise that they're going to follow me. If I get to a teacher before they catch me, I'll be safe. I'm almost there.

"You can't outrun us, you know. Your short little legs won't carry you far." The next voice calls, alarmingly closer than the last. 

But I'm getting so close to class. I can't stop now.

My head is still down as I turn the corner, so I accidentally run into a tall, muscly boy with an afro, who is blocking my path. I don't even have to look up to know who it is. 

Ray snickers and grips my shoulders harshly to turn me around. The halls are significantly quieter, meaning everyone is already in class at this point. 

'I'm so fucking screwed', I curse to myself.

My shoulders slump under Ray's grip in defeat. I keep my gaze trained on my feet, covered in faded black converse. Ray is smirking, I can feel it, knowing that he and the others have me. Footsteps are getting closer but there is nothing I can do.

Ray releases my shoulder and I feel a different hand slap down and dig its fingers down. 

"You didn't seriously think you could get away today, did you?" Mikey whispers into my ear, making my while body tense in fear and my eyes scrunch shut. 

Bob chuckles. "Come on, guys. Let's take him somewhere a little more private. Y'know, so we can give him a little talk." He says, as if I'm not standing right here. They're not going to talk to me anyway. I know they're just going to do what they do every other day.

"Yeah, sure." Ray answers. 

I dread this part of the day. It's worse when there are multiple people doing it, because if one of them isn't here, then the others still will be. I've never had a day since I started school here that they haven't at least pushed me over in the hallways.

Ray and Bob grab one of my arms each and drag me roughly towards the bathrooms. They throw me down hard onto the cold white tiles and take their turns circling my small figure on the floor and throwing insults at me. 

"Disgusting." Mikey spits at me. 

Ray reaches down to grab the collar of my Misfits t-shirt and pull me up so that Bob's fist can collide with the side of my face. I scream out as pain shoots through my whole jaw and I fall down again. Mikey starts kicking me in the back.

"Ugly fucking faggot. Why don't you just slit your wrists and get it over with already? You're fucking pathetic." Ray sneers as the other two stand on opposite sides of me kick me in the stomach and upper back repeatedly. 

I groan and wince at the sharp pain gradually rising throughout my torso. Ray brings his foot backwards slightly and then kicks me, hard, right on my cheekbone. I can't help but let out a little groan at the pain, instantly regretting it knowing that it's only encouraging them to do more.

The next few minutes are just a blur, mixed in with continuous waves of pain in various parts of my body. I just keep my eyes closed and try to make as little noise as possible while they take out all of their anger on me, knowing that whatever I do will only encourage them to do much worse. I know that, because the last time I tried to get away from them, they carved the word 'FAGGOT' in long lines across my abdomen. 

I've never had a good past with that word - I don't think anyone has - but it isn't something that can just go away. And now it certainly isnt something that can go away. Its written across my fucking stomach, for fuck sake. I remember the pain and gut-wrenching fear that ran across my body when Bob pulled out his silvery blue pocket knife that he carries around all the time and pressed it into my skin, and I remember Ray and Mikey holding me down and telling me to be quiet while I screamed and wriggled beneath their grip. There has been an aching sting for days. From then, I've just let them do whatever they want. I can't fight back, who knows what they'll do next time? 

I can feel the boys getting less persistent with their hitting, probably getting tired. I let out an internal sigh when I realise that they're getting bored with me. Two of them grab me under the arms and drag me from the middle of the room to a corner, hidden behind one of the stalls. Bob spits on me. 

"You should but fucking die already, fag. No-one would miss you anyway." Ray growls. 

"Yeah," Mikey chimes in. "No-one would want some gay, depressed little fucking twink like you. Not even your own parents. You're a disgrace to the rest of the world." He got increasingly angier through that sentence, and got that out of his system with another kick to my side, making me whimper and huddle impossibly further into the corner I was shoved into.

The three unharmed boys smirk and look at each other for a moment, before deciding amongst themselves that they were finished for today and leaving me in the bathrooms like nothing had even happened. 

"See 'ya tomorrow, Iero." Bob calls before closing the door and letting his voice echo through the room, mispronouncing my last name on purpose. 

It's not even that hard to say.

I curl my body in on itself and hold my knees in a protective manner to my chest. My whole body is trembling and aching to the point where I am unable to move. Tears start to well in my eyes and I let out broken sobs into my knees.

• • •

I don't know how long I've been sitting here, but nobody has come into the bathrooms. I don't blame them, though. They're disgusting and pretty much abandoned now that everyone had started using the newer bathrooms that had been built down the other end of school. 

These ones aren't even cleaned anymore, and there are plants growing through the tiles and smashed windows and mirrors and graffiti everywhere. People only came in here to smoke, fuck or get beaten up. I was obviously the latter. I haven't been able to move to get to class and I don't have any friends at school that I can just call up and be like 'uhh hey I got beat up can you help me out?' so I've been sitting here, crying and missing out on my classes. Not that that was much of a loss.

Warm tears are running from my cheeks down to my neck. I don't know why I let them hurt me so bad. I really am pathetic.

Carefully, I lean my head back against the dirty tiled wall and lift my now ripped t-shirt to look at my stomach. There are bruises littering my entire torso, from my chest down to my waist, but that word is still as clear as day. Luckily for me, they didn't cut too deep. But I know it's going to leave a scar. I run my fingertips lightly over the scabs that are forming over the carved letters, broken and bleeding a little bit because of Ray and Bob and Mikey kicking me. Just as more tears begin to fall from my reddened eyes, I hear the bathroom door creak open.

My slightly blurred eyes widen and I try my hardest to keep quiet, hoping that the light noises of the birds and trees coming from the broken window on the wall beside me are enough to cover my unsteady breathing. After a few seconds I hear the click of a lighter. I let out a breath of relief, this person must only be here to have a cigarette. 

"Hello?"

'Fuck, they heard me,' is my first thought, but then I realise that they sound familiar. The voice is calm and soothing as it rings through the room. I'd know that voice from anywhere, even though he probably doesn't even know who I am. 

Gerard Way.

Yes, Way. Mikey's brother. I didn't believe it at first either, because Gerard is nothing like his younger sibling, despite my initial thoughts. He's kind, and probably the most gorgeous guy in the school. Scrap that, he IS the hottest guy in the school. All the girls swoon over him, including me. His eyes are a gorgeous hazel colour, usually surrounded by smudged rusty red eyeshadow and his pale face is framed by long, bright red hair. He's on the soccer team and /damn/, he looks good in shorts. I'm lucky I haven't been caught sitting on the benches and staring at him the whole game.

He calls out again, more curious now that he knows someone is in here. I don't want anyone to see me like this. Especially Gerard. I pull my shirt back down self-consciously and see the slight, dusty reflection of myself in the dirty tiles across from me. I look disgusting. But he's closer, I can see his feet beneath the stall door. 

Gerard takes a cautious step around the stall doorway and notices me sitting there helplessly with puffy red eyes and a bruised face. Embarrassment washes over me as our eyes rake over each other. He's wearing faded blue skinny jeans with a spiked pink belt and a black Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt with a long sleeved blue and purple striped shirt underneath. His hair is messy as always, and it looks like he's wearing eyeliner today. 

His eyes soften with sympathy when he sees me. "Oh my god. Are you okay? What happened?" He asks, crouching in front of me with his cigarette held away between his fingers. 

I just shake my head sadly as more tears fall. Gerard puts his hand over mine in way that was only meant to be comforting, but sent butterflies bursting through me. 

He tucks my hair behind my ear so he can get a better look at my face. "Who did this to you?"

"Ray, Bob and your brother." I say rather blankly.

I hear him sigh as he rubs his thumb gently across the purple bruise beginning to form on my cheekbone.

"I'm sorry." He apologises, making me look up at him with a confused expression.

"Why are you apologising? It's not your fault."

"I know... but that's my little brother. I'm supposed to like, be a role model or something. I don't know, I just feel really guilty."

"You shouldn't." I smile weakly and slowly put my hand on his knee. Gerard takes a glance at the bruises on my arms and frowns.

"They still shouldn't have done this to you." Gerard takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side.

The way he can make something as horrible as smoking look so beautiful amazes me. He could make anything look good. My lips curl upwards a little bit at the scene before me. Gerard must have seen my mesmerized face, because I hear him chuckle a little bit. 

"Your smile is cute." He comments. 

My face flushes red and I look down, embarrassed. 

"What's your name?"

"Frank."

"Hmm. Frank," He repeats. "I like it. I'm Gerard, but you know that already." He smirks when he sees another blush cover my bruised cheeks. "I've seen you around a few times. Like, at soccer and stuff. You look really nice." 

I don't know whether he means I 'look nice' as in I look like a kind person or I look good, but either way my face was burning. Gerard brought his fingers back up to my jaw and ran them down to my chin.

"I'll go get you some ice for that from the nurse, okay? Stay here." I nod, even though I don't really have much of a choice with the last part as I'm in pain and can't really move.

Gerard puts his half finished cigarette out in the crack of a broken tile beside him and stands up in a swift motion. He flashes a crooked smile at me before dashing out of the door to find the nurse. I kind of feel bad about making him put out his perfectly good cigarette, though. Those are expensive. 

Gerard opens the door again a few minutes later with a purple ice pack in his hand. He crouches down again when he's close enough to me and holds the ice pack to my eye. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Stop saying sorry," I say, waving my hand. "You haven't done anything wrong. You're not your brother. He wouldn't be helping me after that, would he?" I add, smiling a little, though it isn't very funny.

He looks at me sadly for a second before nodding. "You don't deserve any of this, Frank."

I hum, not really agreeing with him but at least giving him some sort of answer to that statement.

"How are you feeling?" 

"I feel pathetic." I start, frowning and trying not to cry again. "I never do anything to stop them, I just let them do whatever they want with me. They insult me and tell me that I'm disgusting and I believe them. If I try anything, they'll do something worse."

Even after my attempts to stop them, I can feel the warm tears welling in my eyes and clouding my vision, falling when I blink. 

Gerard moves his body to sit next to me. He tilts his head and looks back into my eyes. 

"You are not disgusting, nor are you pathetic. I can tell you that. Even like this. I don't know what else they say to you, but I know none of it is true, okay? What else do they do?"

I think silently for a second. I guess he's already seen my beaten and bruised, what have I got to lose anyway? 

I slowly bring my hand back to the hem of my shirt and hesitantly pull it upwards. Gerard watches my shaking band with curiosity, but mostly concern. His eyes widen when my shirt is up to my chest and he glances up at me in shock. 

"Shit... holy shit," He stutters. His eyes are darting between my face and my exposed torso. "I didn't... I didn't know that he did this to you. Fuck," He runs his fingers through his brightly coloured hair and takes a deep breath through his mouth. "When did they do this to you?"

"A day or two ago." I look down at my lap and start to fiddle with my fingers. 

There are another few seconds of awkward silence, and I spend them worrying about what Gerard is thinking of me now that he's seen how pathetic I really am.

"It's not a bad thing," He says, noticing my anxiousness. "Being gay, I mean." 

"Well they sure make it seem like it." I gestured to the jagged dark red lines. 

"Their brains are just too small to understand that other people have the ability to love a person of the same gender." He pauses, debating something in his head. "I would know. I'm gay too." He almost whispers the last part.

"Really?" I ask, trying not to sound like I'm kind of excited about this new information. 

Gerard nods slowly. "Mhm."

I frown. "But you're his brother. If that's true, shouldn't he at least have a little respect?"

Gerard shakes his head. "After I came out to my family, they said I needed to move out. They told me that I could only come back if I snapped out of this 'rebellious phase'," he says, air quoting with his thin fingers and rolling his eyes. "So, basically, I can't come back. I've been living with my friend Ryan and his boyfriend Dallon for the last couple of months, but I've been saving up to rent an apartment or a flat or something so I'm out of their hair. I don't plan on going back home, either. My brother and I aren't as close as we used to be but I can't help but still feel responsible for him."

"Oh," is all I say. 

I feel bad for Gerard. At least my mom accepts who I am, i couldn't imagine being in Gerard's position. And I didn't realise that there are more people like me at school.

"You can't listen to people like them, Frank." Gerard continues. "It's not something that we have any choice over, so why should we listen?"

I nod, but I know that their words can still get to me. 

Gerard must notice the glum expression on my face, as he kept going. "You shouldn't worry about what they tell you, Frank. They're idiots. You're perfect just the way you are."

I freeze. I'm so confused. Did he really just call me perfect? Oh my god. Gay panic mode activated.

"I-I am?" 

He leans in closer and tucks my dark brown hair behind my ear again. 

"Mhm. You are." 

Before I have the time to think, Gerard attaches his lips to mine. I don't move for a second - I haven't even processed what's going on yet - but then I start to move my lips softly with his, bringing my hand around to thread my fingers through his hair. Oh, how I've longed to do this. He touches the side of my neck softly, wary of the bruises covering my face and jaw.

Gerard pulls back slowly and I absentmindedly chase his lips, which makes him giggle. I open my eyes and my face turns red again. He smirks, resting his forehead against mine.

"Holy shit," I breathe, my thoughts finally catching up with my actions. "I'm fucking dreaming, aren't I? This has to be a dream. There's no way. You're the hottest guy in the whole fucking school and you just /happen/ to be gay? And you just happen to find me here and be all nice and then kiss /me/? This isn't real. I'm gonna wake up any mi- " I ramble on, but I'm interrupted by Gerard softly pulling me back into another kiss.


End file.
